


Breathless Whisper

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: Di’s Carry On Countdown 2020 [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, As a breathless whisper, Baz really wants to sneer, Baz sure thinks so, Baz’s sneers come out wrong, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Getting Together, Gift Fic, Instead massage happens, Is Simon moaning erotically at a pulled muscle?, M/M, Massage, POV First Person, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Prompt Fic, SnowBaz, Steamy, Watford Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: [Mature] 18+ Simon and Baz.Set Watford 8th year.Simon is struggling with a pulled muscle and Baz really wants to sneer at him.But it's more difficult than people might think when Simon is looking like that.An accidental offer occurs. (Baz should stop reading magazines at the hairdresser.)COC 2020 Day 3, NOV 27: Retellings.Steamy with inappropriate humour.
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Di’s Carry On Countdown 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023208
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	Breathless Whisper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [it_is_twelve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/it_is_twelve/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Massage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191267) by [Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire). 



> Dear reader, I hope you will enjoy this retelling of my drabble **[Massage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191267)** from **[Breathless Whisper](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027750)** series. 💙  
>   
>  **Twelve** , this is for you. 🥺🥺🥺
> 
> * * *
> 
> As always so many thanks and love to my amazing friends and betas Blue ([mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow)), [shushu_yaoi_lj (llamapyjamas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj) and [Theawkwardbibliophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/works).  
>   
> Thank you for all the help and support with this COC and everything I write and for being awesome friends. 💙
> 
> * * *

# BAZ

I am sitting at my table, trying to do some homework for next month. 

One can never be _too_ _prepared_. What if I'm too busy in the next few weeks to give any attention to schoolwork?

Aleister Crowley, if only. My social life consists of being a third wheel whenever Niall and Dev go on a date to the village. 

There is one cinema in Watford, one café and a pub my aunt frequented with her friends while she was in school.

And before you ask, no, unfortunately, there are no museums to visit. Unless one is willing to drive up to London. 

Not sure Niall and Dev would want to go on a date to a museum, regardless. 

I am fairly certain they spend all the movie snogging in the dark. I pretend not to notice or be bothered by it. 

Don't get me wrong. I _am_ happy for my best friend and my cousin. However, I am envious. I want that too with someone. Well, not _just_ someone. 

One person in particular — _Simon Snow_.

Speaking of the devil (even though he doesn’t have wings and tail), Snow emerges into our room from the en suite. He’s only wearing his pyjama bottoms, no shirt. 

A shirtless Snow is a good sight to behold. He’s flawless and hot — his skin the fairest share of gold; his chest and shoulders are littered with a constellation of freckles and moles. (I wish to kiss them all, and lick them.) (Because I’m disturbed. Ask anyone.)

When I see Snow stretching shirtless, I simply can’t look away. 

I need to be careful about how I am approaching him. I can’t reveal my feelings. He can never know that I’m in love with him.

_Pull yourself together Basilton._

I can do this.

I’m going for a sneer that comes out as a breathless whisper. ”What are you doing?” 

He performs another one of his expert stretching that is taking my breath away and adding padding to my trousers, around the groin area. 

Snow grunts, then says, ”Pulled a muscle.”

The noises slipping from his lips are borderline erotic. Is he moaning or is it simply my overly vivid imagination? I need to look away. 

Another try to sneer. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?” 

Bloody hell! What the fuck is wrong with me?

I am beyond embarrassed at this point. 

Quick, it is time to backstep into a sneer to save myself the humiliation. One sneer is all I need. Only _one_. 

Oh please, Crowley, give me strength in these trying times before Snow starts laughing at me for drooling over his beauty.

But Snow locks his eyes with me and answers softly, ”Alright...”

What’s this? I am allowed to touch him now, all of a sudden? What's changed? 

_Basilton, don’t overthink this and whatever you do, do_ not _speak._

At this point, I believe nothing I can muster saying will help me courting Snow. If anything I will undoubtedly ruin everything with my big mouth.

Alright. I _can_ be quiet. I’m brilliant after all. I can do anything I put my mind to. 

Except possibly I am not equipped with the gift of not embarrassing myself completely in front of the love of my life. That virtue wasn’t given to me. 

That’s where the _shut your mouth, Basilton_ , comes in.

I nod at Snow instead of speaking and go for my nightstand, rummaging through it.

 _Well done_ , I try pepping myself. 

This is going better than I expected. I did it. I am a true star just like Mum thought I was.

With trembling hands I take my lotion and begin rubbing his shoulders, adding pressure as I go and hear him moan, ”Baz…”

At first, I am worried I misheard. As stated previously, my imagination knows no borders. Especially where one Simon Snow is concerned.

I move my hands over his shoulders, going for a throughout yet erotic massage. (I’ve read about it in a magazine at the hairdresser.) 

“Oh yes...Baz…” he moans again and I am fairly sure I haven’t misheard _this time_. 

Alright. What now? What do I do? 

What is the protocol of a _second step_ while massaging one’s mortal enemy one is in love with and wants to snog till the wee hours of the night and for the rest of our lives? 

We’d move to Oxford. My family has a hunting lodge there. Much more picturesque aesthetics and a more relaxed atmosphere. Simon would love it there.

It is possible I should not get ahead of myself _yet_.

This might be my only chance with him and I am taking this one in a million chance.

I lean in and start trailing his exposed skin with kisses.

“Yes,” he growls and I kiss him more, losing any self-restraint I’ve ever had. (Which might not have been much, to begin with.)

This is a true miracle and some kind of proof of there being something greater out there, a god for the desperate lovesick queer vampires. A queer vampire love god, perhaps. 

My lips are finally tasting the pleasures of Simon's skin — _hot and delicious_. 

He could go up in flame with me and I would not let go. Not now when I have finally got so close, when I finally got to taste him. 

Simon lets me do it and I still cannot understand how this is reality and not a far-fetched dream my brain cooked up to punish me with at a later time.

“Baz… don’t stop.” He sounds desperate and I lose my wits completely.

“I wasn’t going to,” I practically growl too and I'm utterly bold. “You taste delicious.”

My voice comes out in a way it never has before — hoarse, breathless.

I make sure to kiss every freckle and every mole on his shoulders. 

Simon’s hand comes up and lands on my cheek, caressing my skin with his fingers, igniting a fire inside my heart and my groin. (I am aroused to the point of it being painful.)

Then his hand wanders towards my hair and he makes a fist. 

“Crowley,” I let out a shaky breath.

“Is it too much?” he asks.

“Never,” I whisper in his ear and suck on his earlobe.

I am ready to explode just from _this_.

What else should I do? What else would he want from me?

I lick on his mole and Simon clutches at my hair and pulls, moaning and arching his back. 

And so I keep going, licking every mole in my line of side. His tawny skin is covered in them and I want to kiss them all.

“You’re beautiful, Simon,” I murmur into his skin and he turns around.

The most ordinary and the most breathtaking big blue eyes meet mine.

A lovely blush on his cheeks that I most definitely want to lick _too_. (If Simon lets me, that is. Although I am starting to believe he might be into some licking.) 

“You called me Simon,” he whispers and reaches for me, his other hand coming to my cheek, warm and softer than it looks.

My hands land on his shoulders. I will never let him go.

“I liked it,” he says softly.

“The massage?” I ask.

“Everything,” he answers and looks at my lips. 

I lick them and Simon reaches for me with his mouth.

When he meets my lips with his, the earth starts to spin, the time finally makes sense and is moving forward.

I feel alive, so alive.

Every touch of his soft lips and every stroke of his tongue inside my mouth is waking me up and giving me life.

“You’re my boyfriend now,” I let out stupidly when our lips part in a breathless moan.

Am I a moron or what?

“Sounds good to me,” he says unexpectedly and drags me on top of him.

Aleister Crowley. I’m living a charmed life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 💙


End file.
